Table Of ContentLove’s Fool
Diamond Drake
For Marviel, Bria, and Kaila.
Thanks for your love and support of my dreams.
TITLES BY DIAMOND DRAKE
IMAGINED LOVE
FOR THE LOVE OF JADE
LOVE’S FOOL
Acknowledgments
To my husband of sixteen years, Marviel, thank you for your continued
support of me and my dream to write emotional, dramatic stories. To
Bria and Kaila, my beautiful daughters, thank you for your
encouragement and spreading the word about my books. I truly
appreciate that. To Marlena, thank you for your time and support. I
appreciate it m ore than you know. And to all of my supporters, thank
you so much.
CHAPTER ONE
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Madeline Stiles sat in The Oakland International Airport staring at her laptop
trying desperately to ignore the useless chatter from her sister’s bridesmaids.
Christa Stiles had been friends with the four of them since high school and she
loved them dearly. Madeline, however, couldn’t stand them. She thought they were
some of the most envious, untrustworthy women, none of whom deserved
Christa’s devotion--especially her best friend Reesa. Madeline wanted to reach
across her seat and slap the taste out of the woman’s mouth but she promised
Christa that for the days leading up to her wedding, there would be no drama. She
adored her older sister and would never do anything to ruin the most important
time of her life. Even if it meant keeping her mouth shut while Reesa sat next to
her complaining and acting as if the weekend was all about her.
“I still don’t know why Christa chose black for our dresses. I know people
think it’s elegant but I think it’s morbid. We gone look like we at a funeral,” Reesa
said, snapping her gum as she crossed her arms. “How long is this flight? And why
we going to Memphis anyway? I thought the wedding was supposed to be in the
bride’s hometown not the groom’s,” she huffed. “Oh, so don’t nobody hear me
talking, huh? Whatever.” Reesa rolled her eyes and continued to pop her gum.
Madeline grit her teeth and turned up the volume on her MP3 player. She
tried to ignore Reesa but the woman irritated her, both by talking and popping that
gum. It was as if she got joy out of making other people miserable and starting
drama. Reesa knew very well why Christa’s wedding was being held in Tennessee.
She and her groom, Ellis Marshall, decided it was more sensible and economical to
have their special day in his hometown instead of the Bay Area where they both
lived. Ellis had twelve brothers and sisters as well as a host of family and friends
that he wanted to attend the wedding. Madeline disagreed with her sister’s decision
to change the location and told Christa not to give up her dream of getting married
in the Oakland Hills to accommodate people who weren’t even supportive of her
and Ellis’s relationship. Though despite how Madeline felt, she didn’t harp on it
the way Reesa did. There was no point. Even if Christa regretted letting Ellis make
so many major decisions while she made all the payments for their eighty-five
thousand dollar event, it was too late now. They were minutes from boarding the
plane to Memphis—to start Christa’s and Ellis’s wedding weekend.
“Hey,” Reesa said, as she waved her hand in front of Madeline’s face.
Madeline took a deep breath then removed the earphones from her MP3
player. “How can I help you?” she asked, coolly.
“We were all saying how beautiful Christa’s wedding is gonna be. Don’t you
agree?”
Madeline didn’t hide her annoyance at being disturbed for such a ridiculous
question. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to confirming our reservations
for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night. Some people sit around talking about how
beautiful things will be and others of us do the work to make sure they are,” she
rolled her eyes and replaced her earphones.
“Who does this bitch think she is?” Reesa snorted, as she looked at the other
bridesmaids and back at Madeline. She couldn’t stand the woman and took every
opportunity she could to get under her skin. “Ole ugly self,” Reesa mumbled then
chuckled slightly to herself. Madeline was a lot of things but ugly wasn’t one of
them.
The thirty-year-old Black woman was naturally pretty with toasted almond
skin and chocolate brown, doe eyes. Madeline’s smile lit up her entire face and
added innocence to her round cheeks and pouty mouth. She was beautiful.
One night after a few drinks Christa confessed to Reesa how much she
wished she looked like Madeline. It was as if her sister got all of Rodney and
Evelyn Stiles’ best features and Christa got all of their flaws. Her eyes and nose
were too big and her lips too thin. She spent hours each day applying makeup and
doing everything she could to make herself more attractive when all Madeline had
to do was wake up and she looked stunning. Christa, who was most often described
as cute, stood at five-feet, three inches and had to count every calorie to keep her
size-eight figure from ballooning back to a size fourteen. Madeline, on the other
hand, ate everything she saw but hadn’t added a pound to her five-foot eight, size
six frame since eighth grade.
Christa hated herself for feeling jealous of her sister. It wasn’t Madeline’s
fault that she was beautiful. And contrary to her behavior, she wasn’t really a
stuck-up, self-absorbed bitch who only cared about her looks. Madeline was one of
the most loving, generous people Christa knew and she often encouraged her baby
sister to let go of hurts from the past and open her heart to people. Unfortunately,
Madeline was much more comfortable hiding behind the stuck-up, self-absorbed
bitch persona she’d made for herself.
“Look, hoe, you ain’t gotta be rude!” Reesa snapped. “I’m trying to . . .”
“Oh my god, Christa!” Madeline shrieked, as she tossed her laptop on the
seat beside her and rushed to her sister who came stumbling out of the restroom.
Reesa and the other bridesmaids rushed behind Madeline to find out what
happened. Christa was crying hysterically with her hand over her heart and she
looked seconds away from collapsing.
“Christa, baby, what’s wrong?” Madeline cried, holding her sister close.
“Christa Belle, please,” she said after a few minutes passed with no explanation.
“Ellis . . .” Christa gasped.
“Oh god, what happened to Ellis,” Reesa asked.
“He . . . he called . . . he called off the wedding,” Christa finally said
between breaths. She was close to hyperventilating.
“What?” all the women shouted.
Christa relinquished her cell phone to Madeline who silently read Ellis’s
text. I COULD NEVER MARRY A WOMAN LIKE YOU!!!!
“What the fuck happened?” Reesa demanded after she snatched the cell
phone out of Madeline’s hand and read it aloud.
The other bridesmaids were crying and asking how Ellis could do something
so cruel—and through a text message of all things. Madeline, with tears streaming
down her face, stared into her sister’s eyes. They both knew exactly why Ellis
called off the wedding. It was something they feared could happen if he ever
learned the truth.
“Stiles women don’t get the fairytale,” Christa said to her sister when the
other ladies went to gather their things. “We don’t get the happily ever after.”
Madeline went to get her laptop and purse after Christa asked to be alone for
a while. Reesa had a fit about how much she hated men and that none of them were
any good.
“You know what? I’m gonna call Ellis’s ass and give him a piece of my
mind because this is some bullshit,” she snapped then grabbed her cell phone and
dialed the number. Reesa left a message as she walked away from the rest of the
women.
“Humph, that’s interesting,” Madeline frowned. “Do any of you know Ellis’s
number by heart?” she asked then watched the expressions on their faces grow
suspicious.
Two weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, Madeline decided to surprise Christa
by cooking chicken Alfredo, which was her favorite guilty pleasure, and delivering
it to her home along with four dozen roses in bright, beautiful colors. She knew her
sister was heartbroken over Ellis but a few weeks of moping in bed was enough.
“Get your butt up,” Madeline scolded then snatched the covers Christa had
tucked around her. “Get up and wash your ass, put on something cute, and come
have dinner with the person who loves you most in the world.”
“Leave me alone, Madeline! I don’t wanna get up ever again!”
“Oh, you getting up,” she said before snatching Christa by the collar of her
pajamas. Then she wrestled her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Now
get in there! You got thirty minutes to meet me downstairs. I’m not playing,
Christa Belle,” she said when her sister rolled her eyes. “Don’t let me have to come
back up here. Thirty minutes,” Madeline said again then slammed the bathroom
door shut.
An hour later Christa came downstairs in a long, black and white caftan and
the six-inch heels she never went anywhere without. Her face was fully made up
and her black hair in a neat ponytail atop her head. She was about to fuss at
Madeline for manhandling her out of bed but she smiled instead after spotting the
beautifully decorated dining room table and all the lovely flowers she placed
around the two-bed, two-bath Fremont, California home. Christa walked into the
kitchen and wrapped her arms around her sister.
“Thank you, Mad. This is wonderful,” she said then began to cry. Memories
of her and Ellis’s first Valentine’s Day flooded her mind and her heart ached.
“Umm uh, girl, no crying . . . not tonight. We’re gonna eat this whole pot of
chicken Alfredo and the lemon cupcakes I made for you. And then we’re gonna
laugh and watch movies and have a good time. That’s the deal,” she said, wiping
tears from Christa’s face. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Christa smiled before taking a seat at her pub-style dining room
table. Madeline always had a way of making things look elegant, even the dark
brown, marble-top table and leather chairs she often encouraged Christa to
upgrade. Madeline covered it with a beautiful gold table cloth and bought red,
square plates and goblets to accentuate her red and gold design. “This is really
beautiful, Mad. And just so you know, I’m keeping all of it,” Christa smiled.
Like she’d done every day for the past few weeks, Madeline filled her sister
in on everything that was happening with work, Sidney Reid, and their mother’s
baffling relationships with one loser after another. However, this time Christa
actually responded and participated in the conversation.
“I don’t know what Mama be thinking,” she laughed after taking another sip
of red wine. “I don’t know what you be thinking either. Why don’t you quit
fighting it and gone and be with Sidney. He loves you, Mad, and I think y’all could
be happy together. Quit running in and out of the man’s life and . . .”
“Anyway,” Madeline interrupted not wanting to hear another speech about
Sidney. “You want a cupcake?”
“Uh uh, don’t anyway me. Sidney’s a good man who loves you for who you
are. He’s successful, very attractive, and he’s devoted to you. He has to be to put
up with the way you pop in and out of his life. Stop taking that man for granted,
Madeline. I know how hard it is to find true, unconditional love and . . .”
“Look, bitch, I told you no crying tonight!” she shouted when her sister got
choked up.
Christa burst out laughing like Madeline knew she would. Both of them
went wild if someone else called them a bitch but for some reason it was hilarious
when they said it to each other. It had been that way since they were teenagers.
“Ooh, thank goodness,” Madeline said when the doorbell rang.
“Who is that?” Christa barked.
“Don’t worry about it. Just grab your wine and come to the living room,”
she directed, making her way to the front door. “Hey, heifers, what took y’all so
long?” she smiled then allowed the group of women inside.
“What up, Christa Belle? You looking fly as usual,” Madeline’s best friend
Tamia Mallory said. The two of them had been friends since junior high school.
“How you doing, girl?”
“I’m hanging in there,” she said, embracing Tamia tightly. “And thank you
for the phone calls and cards. I really appreciate it. I just wasn’t up for talking.”
“Girl, don’t even trip. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you
and that I was here if you needed me.”
Next to hug Christa was Madeline’s good friend Avis Hampton and her best
friend Raye Ann Riley. Madeline, Avis, and Raye Ann were seated together at a
women’s day event six years ago and they’d been friends ever since.
“You looking good, baby girl. And it looks like you dropped a few pounds
too,” Avis commented, as she took a step back to inspect Christa more thoroughly.
“Shoot, you probably need to get dumped more often.”
Raye Ann nudged Avis and Madeline looked close to slapping her. Avis was
a cool person but she had the bad habit of speaking first and thinking later. And
even though they knew she didn’t mean any harm, it seemed that a woman close to
turning forty would be better able to control what came out of her mouth.
Especially one who was constantly subjected to and hurt by the mean things other
women said.
Avis, who was five-three and wore a size ten, had the same issues with
weight control as Christa. She swore the pack of Newport cigarettes she smoked
everyday somehow managed her weight. Though, her problem was more about
where she gained the weight than anything. If Avis had a choice she’d pack the
pounds on to her slender hips and flat behind. Instead, every ounce she gained
went to her already protruding belly and made her large breasts even more
pronounced. Men didn’t seem bothered by it but women were cruel in their taunts
about her misshapen body. Avis already struggled with feeling attractive since
pretty and cute weren’t words anyone ever used to describe her. Having body
image issues as well only made her feel worse.
However, Avis wasn’t one to let people get the best of her and she did
everything in her power to present herself well. Her makeup and long hair
extensions were always flawless and she went religiously every two weeks to have
her eyebrows and body waxed, fake eyelashes applied, hands and feet manicured,
and her face treated with European facials. Avis spared no expense when it came to
her clothes, shoes, and the intoxicating perfumes she wore—although the smell of
smoke often upstaged her exotic scents. And she had a certain charm that drew
people to her. Other women may not have considered her pretty, but they couldn’t
take away the fact that Avis had style.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Christa. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Avis said,
feeling badly about the comment she made.
“Don’t even worry about it, girl. Come on in and grab a seat. Y’all want
some wine?” Christa asked, making her way towards the kitchen.
“Girl, please, you know it’s all about that Alize Gold Passion,” Raye Ann
grinned, as she held up the two bottles they brought with them.
“Ghetto asses,” Madeline laughed then took the bottles to the kitchen to fill
Avis’s and Raye Ann’s glass. Everyone was surprised when Tamia asked for a
glass too. Their nickname for her was Ms. High Society because she was bougie
and acted as if certain things were beneath her—like sipping on a glass of Alize.
Tamia, a bi-racial thirty-year-old boutique owner, was caught up with name
brands, status, and what people thought of her. It explained why she’d already
started getting Botox injections, had her thin lips plumped, and gotten breast
implants on two different occasions. Tamia was often teased for being a White girl
with a Black girl’s booty and she’d laugh and say it was the only thing she
inherited from her mother. Everything else, including her attitude, she learned from
her father. That night, however, Tamia wanted to relax and not worry about
anything but having a good time and enjoying the only real friends she ever had.
It came as no surprise that Madeline invited her friends to come over instead
of Christa’s. And in all honesty, Christa was grateful for that. For years her sister
and mother told her she needed to choose a better group of friends but she always
defended her girls. Throughout the wedding planning and especially after Ellis
broke things off, Christa realized her friendships weren’t as strong as she always
believed them to be. It was Madeline’s friends who called and came by and offered
support to her during the worst time of her life. Christa’s so-called friends barely
phoned and when they did, it was only to talk about what they were going through.
Most hurtful, however, was the fact that Reesa hadn’t called or come by once.
The women laughed and talked over drinks for a few hours, Christa being
the loudest of them all. She was grateful for the company and the chance to feel
normal again. Not that she was over Ellis, but for the first time since that day in the
airport Christa believed she would be okay.
“Look, y’all my girls and everything but you gotta admit it’s kinda sad that
we spending Valentine’s Day with a bunch of broads instead of being somewhere
with a nice, stiff piece of man meat,” thirty-six-year-old Raye Ann said to the
amusement of the other women. “I’m serious. It’s been almost six weeks since I
